Harry Potter and the Secret Apartment
by thisbe gwydion
Summary: [completed] Harry's stuck for yet another summer at the Durley's, but mysterious packages, mysterious dreams, and a certain red-headed girl make it a little harder to remain there, despite Dumbledore's orders.
1. Muggle Post

**Muggle Post**

_Chapter 1_

Harry looked out of the window. He was once again in his cell at the Dursley's. He was watching for a letter or a brief glimpse of the world he loved, the world he was shut off from. He sat up straighter when he saw a pigeon take flight from a hidden windowsill thinking it was an owl, but he was wrong. He rested his elbows back on his own windowsill and looked listlessly out the window.

"Get down here, boy!" he heard his uncle yell just loud enough for Harry to hear but low enough that his voice didn't carry beyond the walls of Number 4 Pivot Drive.

Harry slid his chair back slowly and walked over to his door. He had been falling into moods since Sirius's death, becoming angry, relaxed, a mood that was common only around his friends and the members of the order, or lazy, his current mood.

"Now, boy!" his uncle yelled as Harry's hand grasped the door knob. He refused to hurry and took his time walking down the steps. He heard his uncle grumbling and followed the noise into the living room.

He saw his uncle sitting in his favorite armchair while his aunt sat knitting on a couch across the room. A small portion of Dudley's body was hidden by a large cardboard box.

Harry stopped and stared at the box, unsure of what was happening and why he was there.

"Your friends sent you this," he said maliciously and Harry took his attention from the box and looked at his uncle, who held a piece of parchment in his trembling hands. Harry was unsure if his uncle was scared or angry so he quickly grabbed the box and walked hurriedly to his room with Dudley throwing a temper tantrum over the box.

Harry set the box on his desk and locked the door with one of Fred and George's magical locks, a present they had sent him that they weren't yet selling in their shop. He pulled Sirius knife from one of the desk drawers and pulled the blade out. He held his hand posed over the box and a split second before he cut into the tape, he pulled his hand back.

_What would Sirius do?_ he asked himself silently. "Open the box without thinking," he said quietly before raising his hand over the box once more.

"Not if the darkest wizard of our time and his minions were out to murder him," he argued with himself.

"Right," he agreed with himself before examining every side of the box along with the postage stamps bearing teeth and toothbrushes, from Hermione's parents no doubt, and the meticulously perfect letters drawn by Hermione with a muggle marker.

"But why muggle post?" he asked quietly before he examined the box again and on the third try he noticed very tiny markings in a crease of the box. He rummaged through a few drawers of the desk looking for something until he pulled from a drawer a broke magnifying glass, which once belonged to Dudley, who had thrown it across the room when he hadn't been able to burn a bug.

Harry held the glass up to the markings and saw the emblem for Fred and George's joke shop. He smiled before pulling his wand from the waistband of his jeans. He tapped the emblem as he said, "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good."

A few scribbled lines appeared and Harry read them quickly.

Glad you figured it out mate! We hoped you'd remember this little trick and that Wormtail didn't know it. Hermione's letter is better; we just wanted you to know that the box was safe.

Fred&George

Harry cut the tape and opened the flaps of the box. A piece of parchment lay on top of another box, though this one was bound in dragonskin and looked rather expensive.

He lifted the piece of parchment up and noticed that it wasn't just one piece, but three. He read the top on first.

Harry,

Ron's family was cleaning out Sirius' room, and found these two boxes and letters written by Sirius. We would have sent them by owl post, but the box was so large and we didn't want to get you into any trouble. Sorry our letters have been so few and far between, I don't have my own owl, and I've just now arrived in London for a few days with my parents. Ron won't admit it but we know he misses you, as do Ginny and I. We hope that you are feeling okay and that living with the Dursleys' isn't too bad.

Hermione

_No, not too bad,_ Harry said sarcastically to himself. Of course his friends didn't understand what it was like being cut off from the wizarding world. He knew he shouldn't be so bitter about it, it wasn't their fault, and he should be used to it by now, but he wasn't.

He pushed his bitterness aside and read the next piece of parchment.

Harry,

Happy Birthday! All this time alone had given me plenty of time to organize everything and get ready for everything. Well, mate, hope you enjoy your gift!

Snuffles

Harry smiled at his godfather. Of course he had plenty of time, but who would think he would plan his godson's birthday presents? Harry was happy to have at least the smallest about of contact with his godfather, even though he was gone forever. That hadn't stopped Harry from sending Hedwig out with a few letters, which Mr. Weasley had written about saying Hedwig had been trying to get in to the Department of Mysteries. Harry was sure she was trying to take his letters into the room with the archway, but had been unsuccessful.

He moved onto the last piece of parchment which also held his godfather's unmistakable handwriting.

Harry,

Again, I've had plenty of time to get things in order. I guess I won't beat around the bush, if you're reading this that means I've met my demise. Yes, I feel rather stupid writing this, the only possible way I could meet my demise is if Kreacher goes so insane he forgets I'm his master. If that is indeed what has happened, you'd better be careful, because you're his master now. Yes, if I have indeed died, I have left you my house. I've left you quite a few other things as well. The small box the Black families crest is yours, as well as all the gold in my vault a Gringotts. There are a few more things, but I think that you will find them on your own.

I know that my passing will have been hard on you, but I want you to remember that you're parents loved you, as do I.

Love,

Sirius

A tear escaped Harry's eye. He didn't think Sirius would give him his house or gold. He hadn't expected anything, he had thought that he would never again know hear from Sirius, but he had just received two letters from him. He wished he could thank the Weasley's and Hermione, but he didn't know how.

He set the letters aside and pulled the box wrapped in dragonskin from the cardboard box. He set the dragonskin box on his bed and looked once again into the cardboard box. He saw another box though, this one was smaller and gleaming a blood red dragonskin. He could see the Black family crest shining brightly as he lifted the box out. He set the blood red box next to the plain dragonskin box.

He was unsure which to open first. He opened the large box which he had expected was for his birthday. On top, laid three boxes, each different in size. He picked up one of the boxes at random and lifted the lid from the top. Inside were three wristwatches. The watches were all alike and each held a picture of Harry, Hermione, and Ron on their hands. They were exactly like the Weasley's grandfather clock. Harry glanced back down at the box and saw another small piece of parchment. He picked it up and read it as he had the last piece.

I had plenty of time to make these; Mrs. Weasley can tell you how to add another person or persons.

Harry put the lid back on the box and set them aside. He picked up another one of the boxes that lay with the larger box. He took the lid off the box and within it was an old pocket watch, which held the correct time.

He picked up the piece of parchment that had been under it.

This was your Grandfather Potter's.

He put the lid on the box and picked up the last box. He lifted the lid and inside was a chunk of emerald green wax and a seal. He picked up the piece of parchment that was under it.

This was a wedding gift from Professor Dumbledore to your parents.

An expensive set of robes lay on top and he pulled them out gently. As he held them up in the light he noticed that not only did they look expensive, they looked old. He found a small piece of parchment attached to the robes.

These were your fathers dress robes.

Harry folded the robes neatly and placed them back inside the box. He put the pocket watch and wax and seal on top of the robes. He strapped one of the watches to his arm and put the other two back into the box, promising to send them to Ron and Hermione later. He closed the lid softly and sat on his bed before opening the next box.

He lifted the lid slowly and inside set a key and another box. He looked at the key, which he suspected was to Grimmauld place and set it back into the box before picking up the small box. He opened the lid and inside lay another key. He picked the key up and examined it more closely than he had the first key. He held the key in his hand for over a minute when he felt the pull behind his bellybutton that signaled he was touching a portkey.

He felt his knees give out as he landed. He looked around and he was standing on the top of a building. He noticed a small letter and picked it up. He opened the letter and inside was Fred and George's writing.

Sirius made us secret keepers; we each only know half of the address.

Number 24 Diagon Alley

Harry noticed that though Fred and Georges hand writing was almost exactly the same, George wrote bigger than Fred, and as he looked up an apartment appeared around him.

He walked through the house and found yet another letter.

You're above Fred and George's Joke Shop. I owned the building and sold them the bottom half and saved this top half for when you got out of Hogwarts. I wanted you to have a place of your own if you wanted it. It was where I lived after I got out of Hogwarts.

The Key is a portkey; it works every half an hour. To get back to where you were, just tell the key the place. Be sure to be very detailed.

Harry walked around the apartment, which was filled with comfortable and dusty furniture. The apartment was large and Harry was amazed Sirius hadn't come here, but a whole house is nicer than an apartment. Yet, Harry thought he'd rather be stuck in this cozy apartment than in the gloomy house of Black.

Harry walked to the front door and before he opened it he put the key back into the box. He pocketed the box and walked downstairs. He opened a door which he thought opened into the street but found himself in Fred and George's joke shop. He could hear noises and started to walk towards them. He found himself in front of a door marked "Experiments In Progress". He knocked.

"We're busy, Ginny!" he heard George yell.

Harry's heart did a somersault in his chest at the mention of Ginny's name. _She's here,_ he thought before looking around quickly. He couldn't see anything, except more shelves full of fireworks.

"It's Harry," he said after calming himself and looking back at the door.

Seconds later the door swung open and Fred and George pulled Harry into the room. He looked around the room which was full of different bottles and marked boxes. It looked as though they were running a potion store in their back room.

"Why don't you experiment in the basement?" he asked oddly, unsure why he cared.

"This is the basement mate," Fred said causing Harry to look around. He noticed that there were no windows and the door seemed to be at the same level, "Bit of magic," Fred added with a smirk.

He watched as George grabbed a piece of parchment and a quill and scribbled something on it before handing it to Fred. Fred did the same and handed it to Harry. He saw again the address of his secret apartment.

"Professor Dumbledore says you can come to Diagon Alley for a few hours, but you have to go back to Privot Drive," Fred said with a smile. They knew how much he and Sirius had wanted freedom. "But only during the day, and you can tell Ron and Hermione," he paused, "if you want."

Harry smiled at them, "See you later then," he said before starting for the door.

"There's some Ton Tongue candies, if you want some for your cousin," George yelled, "the back door of the apartment leads to directly to the street," he added before Harry walked back into the store.

Harry walked through the store looking for Ginny. He was unsure why he had felt his heart do a somersault when he had heard her name, he had never felt that what about her before. She had always been Ron's little sister, the girl with the crush on him.

He found her easily enough; she was rearranging a few Skiving Snack Boxes so that she could add another set.

"Hi," he said from behind her, making her jump and drop one of the boxes she held.

A/N: You've taken the time to read... so please review!


	2. Secret Desires

Secret Desires

Chapter 2

Harry walked back up the stairs to his hidden apartment. He knew the day had been waning and that he had to obey Dumbledore's orders if he wanted to enjoy Diagon Alley and his new apartment.

He pulled the box from his pocket and lifted the key from it.

"Number four, Privot Drive, the smallest bedroom," he said before he was pulled back into his room. He fell to the floor before standing and putting the key back into its box. He walked over to his bed and sat down in front of his blood red box. He looked into the box and noticed something wrapped in cloth that matched the interior of the box. He pulled it out and unwrapped the package slowly.

"Hi, Harry," the present said and Harry's mouth dropped open. He was looking at a book sized painting of his godfather.

He looked younger than he really was, and he still held his good looks he had before entering Azkaban Prison. The bags under his eyes were gone and he looked much happier.

"Hi," Harry said cautiously before he heard mumbling. It sounded as if it was coming from inside the frame, but his godfather was smiling. Harry titled the frame sideways and noticed that there was more than one frame. He slide the two apart to reveal his parents.

"Hello, Harry," they said with large smiles.

Harry was unable to speak; he was amazed at the paintings. He was unsure why Sirius hadn't given them to him for his birthday, or last summer.

"Get down here boy!" his uncle yelled loudly.

Harry looked at the door knowing it was time for dinner, and his stomach was grumbling loudly.

"I'll be back," he said to the paintings before setting them down carefully and walking off to dinner.

He hurried through his food and returned to the paintings as quickly as he could. He fell asleep talking to them, his room locked and his things put away.

He woke up the next morning with a vivid dream of Ginny still playing in his head. He couldn't stop himself from thinking about her and the dream. He couldn't' forget the way her body had looked in his dream, and the clothes that were barely there. He felt guilty about the desires he was feeling, she was his best friends little sister.

He wanted to talk to someone about it, but there was no one to tell. All of his friends were related to Ginny or her best friend. He couldn't tell Ron about the dream he had, and Hermione wouldn't understand. He fought his desires for days before he finally wrote her a letter.

Ginny,

Can we meet tomorrow at twelve in front of Fred and George's Joke Shop? Don't tell anyone.

Harry

He held the letter in his hands for hours before he finally sent Hedwig off with it, hoping no one would notice that Harry had sent Ginny a letter, but not Ron or Hermione. He knew it would look odd, him sending Ginny a letter, but he didn't care; he had to send it to her.

He waited up for Hedwig. He didn't want to sleep until he got a reply from Ginny. He was unsure if she still had feelings for him, hadn't she been dating Dean Thomas at the end of term? _Too late for regrets now,_ he told himself as he began to pace his room.

"Calm down, Harry," he heard the paint of Sirius say.

He looked at the painting, "Easy for you to say," he said to it.

He watched as his mother walked out of her own painting, into Sirius' painting and then out of his. "Where's she gone?" he asked curiously.

"To speak with a friend, I suppose," his father said. "Now, Harry, you need to calm down. The girl had a crush on you, correct?" His father, though only a painting, was still trying to be a father. Harry had never talked to anyone about girls, unless you count his uncomfortable conversations about Cho with Ron and Hermione.

"Yes," he replied as he fell onto his bed. "But she got over me," he said sadly. He had been happy about it when he heard it, but now, he hated it. She was very pretty, and she had grown since he last saw her. The top of her head now reached his eyes and her body was so much more womanly. He had never seen her as a girl before, just Ginny.

"No, a crush is a crush, but it can become stronger," his father said before Hedwig soared through the window and landed on Harry's dresser. Harry jumped up and threw Hedwig a treat before taking the letter from her.

I'd love to meet you and I didn't tell anyone.

Harry wanted to scream, to jump up and down. He was happy she had agreed to meet him, happier than he had been when he had gotten his first date with Cho. She had been a girl he got nervous around; Ginny was a friend that he wanted to be so much more.

He shut his window and laid in bed with all his clothes on. He fell asleep quickly, having spend half the night waiting for Hedwig.

He woke up late the next morning, not caring that he had missed breakfast. He dressed quickly and held the key, his father's old robes, and one of Fred and George's locks in his hands an hour and a half before he was to meet Ginny. He felt the hook grab him behind his navel and he fell onto the floor. He got up quickly and began to clean the apartment, making sure to get all the dust off the furniture, making sure the dishes were clean. He made a nice lunch and pulled his father's old robes on before running down to the street to meet Ginny.

Not wanting to be seen by Fred and George, or anyone else, he grabbed Ginny from behind and sneaked her up the stairs before letting her read the scribbled words. They walked into the apartment and Ginny's eyes widened before she looked around slowly.

"And I always thought this building was only one story," she said as she examined the cozy apartment.

Harry walked behind her quietly, taking in the smell of her hair and the aura that seemed to surround her. After a minute he took her elbow gently and led her over to the table. He pulled her chair out for her before serving the meal he had made. They ate together each making small talk, but avoiding the topics they both wanted to discuss. Ginny wanted to know why Harry had wanted her to be so secretive, and Harry wanted to talk about his feelings, thinking Ginny could help him to understand the things he was feeling.

Thunder shook the apartment, making Ginny jump, and what was a gloomy day turned into pouring rain.

Harry was happy it was raining, it meant they could stay in the apartment without making him seem too eager to be alone with her; and Ginny was unsure how she felt. Seeing Harry a few days ago had made a train of emotion crash through her body. She had thought her stupid little crush, but it seemed it had just grown as she pushed it down.

She thought of Dean, who was still sending her letters. The two were still together, and she still had feelings for him, but he wasn't Harry. She couldn't escape the fact that she had started to have dreams about him, that he consumed her thoughts when she had the time to relax, that she had only agreed to help Fred and George so she could keep busy and forget about the boy.

They finished eating and Harry led Ginny over to the couch facing an extravagant fireplace. Harry sat down closer to Ginny than she had expected her would, their legs were touching and sending tingling shots through her body. She could smell the small amount of sweat that had been caused by cooking the hot lunch. He felt so warm and right.

"Harry, I," she said as she realized how she was feeling. She knew she had to leave before she did something wrong. She knew he hadn't brought her to the apartment for the reasons she had come. She wanted to run her hands through his unruly hair, to run her fingertips over his lips, to feel his lips on hers, to feel his hands on her body, but she knew his reason for being her had nothing to do with desires. He was probably planning to get something for Ron, or discuss his feelings for Hermione, or Cho, anything but kiss her. "I better go," she said after regaining her composure. She stood up and walked to the door, with Harry trailing behind.

He walked her down the steps, unable to think of the right words. He wanted to stop her, but he couldn't. He walked out into the rain with her, hidden from the people walking on the main street. Harry grabbed Ginny's hand so she couldn't walk into the street. He held her there, unsure of what to do, both of them becoming soaked.

He pulled her into him, his hands cupping her jawbones, and kissed her passionately. He felt his lips tingle as soon as they touched hers, and after taking a quick breath, he felt her mouth part, and he slipped his tongue into her mouth. He felt her tongue on his before her arms wrapped around him. His hands gripped her face firmly as the kiss continued, each not wanting the other to pull away. They pulled each other closer, wanting the kiss to suffice their hunger for each other, but lightning struck again causing thunder to roll over them.

Harry pulled away, unsure of what to say or what to do. Ginny turned around and walked off, though her hands lingered on his body, not wanting to leave. He watched her walk onto the main street, the rain soaking him completely through. When he could no longer see her red hair he walked back into the apartment, and pulled his wand out. He dried his clothes and cleaned up the mess from lunch.

When he was unable to find anything to keep him busy, he fell onto the couch, his hands going slowly to his lips. As he sat their, his fingers touching his own lips, he could remember the feel of Ginny's lips on his own. The way she had gripped his sides in urgency and the way her tongue had felt in the last seconds of their kiss played in his mind before he realized he had to return to Number 4 Privot Drive.

A/N: You've taken the time to read... so please review!


	3. Another Secret Date

Another Secret Date

Chapter 3

Harry woke in the middle of the night, his dream causing him to need a cold shower. He grabbed the only towel he was permitted to use and quietly walked to the bathroom, not wanting the Dursley's to see him aroused. He locked the door and turned the cold water on before stepping under the cold jets. He began to shiver before his desires took over his blank mind.

His thoughts flashed back to the dream that he had been having before he had hurried off to the bathroom. It had started almost innocently with the kiss the two had shared in the rain, but it had quickly escalated. Harry hadn't let her walk off; he had carried her back up the stairs and into the apartment. He had debated with himself on whether he should set her down on the floor or carry her into the bedroom. He had decided on the latter and carried into what was Sirius' old bedroom and laid him on his old bed.

Harry pulled his father's heavy wet robes from his body before doing the same to Ginny's. He hadn't stopped at her robes but had pulled the faded blouse and the lace bra from her chest. He had then kissed her passionately before pulling back and taking her shoes of gently. He had then pulled her skirt from her legs, then the clear stocking she wore until nothing was left except the lacy panties that matched her bra. He placed his hands gently on the top of the panties, and at that moment he had woken up; except now in the shower, the dream went farther and he leaned against the wall before sliding down and sitting in the tub as the cold water continued to wash over him.

He began to think of Snape, of Dudley, of Voldemort, anything to stop him from thinking of Ginny naked, to calm him down, to become less aroused.

He fell asleep for a brief second until he woke up and turned the water off, not wanting to fall asleep in the shower, knowing the Dursley's would not think highly of all the water running down the drain and the water bill being more expensive than the neighbors.

He pulled his over sized pajama bottoms over his relaxed body and returned to his room, where he was happy to see the paintings of Sirius and his parents sleeping. He laid down and pulled his blankets up to his waist.

He didn't want the dream to return, or to become aroused again, so he tried to fight sleep, though it seemed impossible as he lay in his bed starring at the ceiling. He got out of bed and walked over to his desk, he pulled from it a piece of parchment and a pen. He didn't want to waste time with a quill and bottle of ink so he sat down and stared at the parchment while he opened and closed his retractable pen uncontrollably.

_What would Ron think if he knew I had just had that dream about Ginny? What would he think if he knew I actually wanted that dream to come true?_ He couldn't imagine the look on his friends face if he found out. He would flip out; he would never talk to him again. He would make Draco Malfoy look like an angel. _He'd understand,_ Harry thought.

Meet me again, in the back alley at sunset. Tell your parents you're sleeping at Luna's.

He was unsure if he was doing the right thing. What if Ginny didn't show up, what if she wasn't feeling the same way he was. _Then nothing will happen, I'll come back here and she can sleep at Sirius'._ He gave the letter to Hedwig and sent her off into the night.

He wasn't going to wait for Ginny's reply this time, he slipped into bed and fell asleep, this time not thinking of Ginny or Ron's reaction, but of quidditch. He fell asleep just as he imagined himself catching the snitch at a future Quidditch World Cup.

Harry woke in the morning without needing a cold shower, but warm food. He had forgotten the few hours he had spend awake during the night and walked down stairs to eat his food.

He ate his grapefruit happily and walked back upstairs to eat a sandwich he had encased in ice days ago. He unfroze the ice and took a bite of the sandwich, the bacon crunching gently as he chewed.

He had finished his sandwich and some of his homework, though the dent he had put in it was minimal, and was reading through one of the books he had received from Sirius and Remeus Lupin the Christmas before when Hedwig flew through the window. Harry, still forgetting the night, though she had returned for hunting and went back to his book. Hedwig, realizing he wasn't going to retrieve the letter she had, flew on to his desk then the book before Harry noticed the letter.

Everything washed back into Harry's mind, the cold shower and the letter he had written to Ginny becoming vivid.

He took the letter and opened it slowly.

okay

Harry smiled. That was so perfect. He hadn't expected her to write a long note, he had suspected it would only be to letters, no. He felt as happy as he had days ago when she accepted his first request for a date. He pulled his stopwatch out, noticing that he had fifteen minutes before his portkey would work. He grabbed all his things and took hold of the key, which pulled him into the apartment.

He began to clean up again, though the only thing he had to do was wave his want to make the dust disappear. He lit the fire, the cold finally getting to him. It was another dreary day but Harry couldn't help but be extremely happy.

He began to rummage through the cupboards, searching for wine or champagne, or the firewhiskey he had heard Fred and George talk about. He eventually found a nice bottle of wine, _Of course Sirius would have this, he was a charmer._ Harry was about to uncork the bottle when he realized how stupid it was. Neither of them drank alcohol and Harry didn't want to be accused of getting Ginny drunk so she'd sleep with him, so he returned the bottle and settled for one of the many butterbeer bottles in the ice chest.

Harry stared out of the window for a few minutes before realizing he should be waiting in the alley for Ginny. He walked down the stairs and paused halfway down.

He didn't want to be that guy that seduced a young pretty girl, yet that's what he wad doing, what he was planning. He looked at himself from an outsider's point of view and didn't like himself. He was trying to get a girl into bed, a girl he wasn't sure he had real feelings for, a girl that was the younger sister of his best friend. He couldn't go through with it, but he could see Ginny's bright red hair from where he stood. His heart did another somersault but he held tight to the rail. _It feels so right, but is it?_ His heart forced him down a step, _Maybe._ He knew he had to go through with it. If he didn't he'd wake up again with the same dream, the same need to have a cold shower. His heart forced him down another step and he could see her back. Her red hair fell softly over her dark brown robes. He took another step. He could see that her hands were trembling and he knew that he couldn't hold back any longer. He walked to the bottom of the steps and caressed her shoulder softly. She spun around gracefully, her hair lifting off her shoulders as her robes spun gracefully.

He held his finger to her lips before grabbing her trembling hand and pulling her up the steps. They walked together up the steps each in tune with the other. Their heartbeats melded together and their feet fell and rose at the same time as the ascended the steps.

Harry opened the door quietly and the two slipped into the apartment before Harry shut the door and locked it, not wanting Fred or George to walk up for a cup of sugar.

He led Ginny over to the couch where the fire shined brightly and two bottles of butterbeer sat on the dark wood coffee table.

"So how have you been," he asked Ginny as he felt her warm body next to his. She smelled of gingersnaps yet as he took in a deep breath he could smell honeysuckle mixed with the cookies he loved so much.

"Different," Ginny said with a smile before she finally looked at Harry. She could see that he hadn't shaved because little black dots were forming on his face, though it was nothing like Sirius and Lupin when they hadn't shaved. His was faint though oddly attractive. He had the musky smell of sweat mixed with a light dusting of cologne which made her body want to explode.

"Yeah?" Harry asked wanting Ginny to give him a small sign that she was feeling the way he did, though he knew he shouldn't wait for it. It was his job to make the first move, his job to set his heart on the line to be broken, not hers. "Ginny, I haven't been able to stop thinking about you."

Harry could see a smile in Ginny's eyes before the corners of her lips rose. He kissed her softly, the kiss unlike the one they had shared the day before. It was full of love, not passion, and Harry was amazed at the way he was kissing her. He didn't think he was in love with her, he had thought he just had some sexual desire for her.

He cupped the back of her head with one hand before he pulled back, his hand still holding her head softly and comfortingly. "I-I-I think I love you."

"And I thought you just wanted to shag me," Ginny said reminding him of Fred and George, though he knew his feelings for her were completely different than his feelings for them. The thought of Fred and George slipped form his head and he realized she hadn't said it back. She didn't feel the same way.

"I think I've fallen in love with you too," she whispered, her words sounding like beautiful music on a bright summer day.

"And I thought I had just come here to shag you," he said jokingly.

Ginny drew back, though she wasn't intending to leave his embrace until the morning, "What's that supposed to mean?" she asked with an inquiring glare.

"Just that I got more than I deserve," he said before kissing her again. Their slow loving kiss continued until Harry realized it was time for him to fulfill his dream. He picked Ginny up and stood in one fluid motion before carrying her off to the bedroom, to Sirius's bedroom. He laid her on the bed and pulled his emerald green dress robes off, just as thunder rolled over the apartment. He picked up his wand and waved it, causing the curtains to pull apart to reveal dark rain clouds and another flash of lightning.

Harry pulled Ginny's robes over her head, then her worn blouse, then the lacy bra he had dreamt about. He kissed her softly and slowly before pulling her shoes off, followed by her skirt, then her clear stockings. He glanced at Ginny, only one piece of clothing keeping her from being completely naked. He reached up and slipped his fingers into the top of her lacy panties and smiled when he didn't wake up.

A/N: You've taken the time to read... so please review!


	4. An Endless Dream

An Endless Dream

Chapter 4

Harry leaned down and kissed Ginny, their lips moving slow as they caressed each other. Harry could feel Ginny's smooth body through his rough clothes and his pulled back slowly so he could undress himself.

Ginny watched as Harry slipped his pants off gracefully and slowly, not wanting to rush the moment. He pulled his socks off next, focusing more on Ginny's body then his task as he fumbled once. He pulled off his t-shirt revealing a body that Ginny didn't know he had. His muscles were all outlined and thick, but his chest wasn't bare. He had a thin patch of black hair that started below his underwear and extended halfway up his stomach. Ginny's eyes traveled up his chest and she kept her eyes locked on his as he slipped the tight emerald green underwear down. Neither glanced down at the naked bodies but kept their eyes locked.

Harry descended slowly onto Ginny, the feel of her warm body sending tingles through him as if he was lying on top of an electrical wire. They kissed each other softly and slowly, as if in slow motion, the moments were dragging out, each of their bodies becoming in sync, Harry's heart slowed down to keep up with Ginny's and they took their breaths at the exact moments, their labored intake barely a whisper.

Harry pulled back and Ginny's hands traveled down to his hips as he fumbled around. He pushed himself into her slowly, her hands squeezing him tighter as he did so. He pushed in a little farther and felt Ginny's grip grow tighter and when he had pushed himself in he felt his skin tear as her fingers cut into his skin.

"Are you okay?" he asked her in an almost inaudible whisper.

Ginny looked deeper into his eyes, as if she could see his soul, the dull pain she felt dimming as his eyes told her how much he cared. She loosened her grip on his hips, a few drops of warm blood gently rolling over her fingers.

"Yeah, I," she said before Harry pulled her into a hug making the pain twinge slightly.

"I love you," he whispered into her ear.

"I love you, too," she whispered back.

Harry leaned back and kissed her again. Passion flowed through their lips though their kisses were still slow and gentle. He began to rock back and forth, their lips never breaking contact except for a quick breath.

Minutes later, Harry felt Ginny's fingers grow tighter and his hips, his cuts burning from the sweat that had slipped into them. He wondered if was because she too felt the tiny fireworks going off in her lower stomach.

Harry didn't pull his lips from Ginny's and looked into her eyes. He could see a fire dancing in them as a wide smile spread across her lips. He rolled both of their bodies to his side and pulled her into a tight embrace before falling asleep.

Ginny looked at Harry's sleeping face for a few minutes before slipping out of the bed and walking over to her clothes. She pulled from a small hidden pocket in her robes a small glass vial. Inside was a potion she had made minutes after her kiss with Harry. She had slipped into Fred and George's back room and made the potion, knowing that she wouldn't be able to hold back the next time she was in the apartment with Harry. She drank the icy red liquid, knowing she wasn't old enough to deal with the consequences of her actions, and a child wasn't something she needed just yet. She put the empty bottle back into her robes and slipped back into the bed. She crawled in between Harry's arms and she felt them tighten around her body before drifting off to sleep.

Ginny woke hours later to see Harry's lips moving. His eyes were closed and Ginny could tell he was dreaming. She watched his lips move, unsure why she was just watching him. He looked peaceful for the first few minutes, but then his eyebrows began to move and his eyes blink furiously. She jumped back when he sat up screaming, "No!"

His eyes snapped open and he could feel something warm under his hand. He looked around and was unsure where he was. His bed was bigger and warmer than at the Dursley's. Maybe he was at Hogwarts, but his bed had no canopy.

"Harry," Ginny said quietly. She was unsure what to do. She rubbed his chest softly until he lay back down. "What's wrong?" she asked trying to comfort him, she could feel his heart beating fast and his breathing was slightly labored.

"I-I had a d-dream," Harry said as if the dream were still scaring him. "Ron," he said oddly before adding, "found out."

Harry was terrified of his best friend finding out what he had just done. He had just slept with his baby sister, of the little sister Ron was very protective off, the sister Ron didn't like anyone to date, the little sister that Ron thought of as a little sister not a young woman.

Ginny, on the other hand, wasn't thinking of Ron or any of her other brothers, she wasn't thinking of anything negative. "Harry, I promise, it will be a secret."

Harry turned and smiled at her, "I know, I just feel," he paused searching for the right word, "torn." He turned on his side and faced her. He pushed a lock of hair behind her hair, "I love you, and I'm so happy that we're here." He kissed her nose softly, "And I want the world to know how I feel." There was a long pause, they were both silent as they looked into each other's eyes, "But Ron, and Fred, and George, and Bill, and Charlie, and your mum, and dad," he paused again, "if they found out about this, I wouldn't be Harry, I'd be that git."

Ginny caressed his face, knowing his emotions were all over the place since his godfather had passed away just weeks ago. "Harry, no one has to know about this, no one should know, it's our personal business," she paused as Harry smiled at her, his forehead creasing, making his hair fall away from his eyes, "but our feelings don't have to be."

They fell back to sleep starring into each other's eyes until at once they blinked slowly and their eyes closed completely.

Harry didn't have another dream about Ron finding the two sleeping naked together, he didn't dream about Fred and George killing him, or Percy sending him an owl, or Bill locking him in a vault a Gringotts, or Charlie feeding him to a dragon, but of Ginny sitting at a desk in the Hogwarts library with books around her. She looked at him and smiled before he walked over and kissed her softly on the cheek. He sat down across from her and helped her study.

Harry woke up before Ginny this time. Their arms were still around each other and as he took in a deep breath he could still smell the honeysuckle mixed with gingersnaps, though the smell of he sweet sweat made him smile mischievously.

The sun was just coming up as Harry pulled his underwear on and made sure Ginny was covered by the blankets before walking into the kitchen. He made tea, eggs, and toast and put them on a silver platter. He walked back into the bedroom, where Ginny still lay sleeping, and set the platter on a night stand before crawling back into the large bed. He ran his hand through her hair causing her to stir gently before her eyes flickered open.

"Hey," she said as she sat up, pulling the warm blankets up with her. Her body was completely covered as she reclined on the many plush pillows.

Harry kissed her softly on the lips, "I brought you breakfast," he said before lifting the tray into view.

Ginny pushed the blankets under her arms and drank the tea slowly. They both ate in silence, each unsure what to say. Harry set the empty tray aside and pulled Ginny into his arms. They sat, Ginny being warmed by Harry's body, not speaking but just being with each other.

Harry was happy, happier than when he had found an escape from the Dursley's on his eleventh birthday, happier then the moment he had found out Sirius was his godfather. He wanted to stay in that moment forever, though he knew he would have to go back to the Dursley's, back to being cut off from the wizarding world. He pushed that negative thought out of his mind and focused back on being with Ginny.

Ginny had forgotten that she was dating Dean Thomas. She had just cheated on him without thinking twice. She had admitted her love to Harry without a thought of Dean entering her mind. She knew it didn't matter, she knew she loved Harry, she knew he was the one for her, but when she realized how she had betrayed Dean, she would feel bad and angry with herself, but for now she was happy sitting with Harry.

They spend the next few hours spending time with each other. They were both rather quiet as they showered and cleaned their clothes and watched the people of Diagon Alley come and go. They had contemplated throwing a bucket of water and Fred and George who stood arguing outside their shop for a few minutes, but Harry knew they would run up to the apartment and find their little sister, and that wouldn't be good.

They had watched Neville go into a store and come out with another new plant, which looked like a miniature oak tree. They had watched Professor Grubby-Plank come out of the joke shop with a large bag of goodies before he offered one to his young son, who though still under the age of five, new better than to eat a treat from Weasley Wizarding Weezy's. They had shivered when they saw a man they knew to be a Death Eater, he had walked down the street, not caring if anyone saw him because no one had believed he was a Death Eater again. The two had stopped looking out the window after that.

"Are you sure? You do seem like you're in pain," Harry said as they both got ready to go home. He didn't want to leave Ginny's side, and he could tell she was in a little pain when they would sit down or walk around too much.

Ginny kissed him softly on the lips, "I have a potion downstairs, plus, I have to get to the shop."

"Fine," Harry said reluctantly. He didn't want to leave her side, he couldn't think of how horrible it would be when he returned to the Dursley's, even though he knew he had too. "But, remember, sent me a letter if anything happens, good or bad."

Ginny smiled at him, "I will, and I remember the code," she sighed, "if something bad happens, say Fred and George's new product is bad, if something good happens, say their new product is good."

"Right," Harry said before kissing her softly. He walked her down the steps and kissed her again before she walked onto the main street. He ran back up the stairs and grabbed his key. He whispered his destination into the key and was pulled into his room, where he fell onto the bed and fell asleep.

A/N: You've taken the time to read... so please review!


	5. Returning Home

Returning Home

Chapter 5

Harry woke at dinner time with a smile. He felt great. His heart was souring and he could think of nothing except Ginny and their time together. He stood and ruffled his hair before walking down the steps into the dining room. There was little food left, but enough for Harry to eat his fill. He washed the dishes happily before walking back upstairs. He was in a daze, everything was pushed from his mind, Sirius's death, and the fact that he was cut off from his world, and that he was stuck living with the Dursley's.

He walked upstairs and sat down at his desk. He pulled out a piece of parchment, his best quill, and the emerald green ink Hermione had sent him. He dipped the quill in the ink and wrote in his best handwriting.

Ginny,

I'm so glad we got to spend time together. I haven't been to think of anything but you. I know we only just left each other a few hours ago… but I feel like a different person. I hope you are feeling better. Send an owl with any news.

Love,

Harry

He folded the parchment and brought the wax set out. He dropped a large amount of emerald green wax onto the letter before pressing the Potter family crest into it. He gave the letter to Hedwig with an owl treat before sending her off to London.

He felt exhilarated so he pulled on a pair of shorts and trainers before walking downstairs. He walked outside and stretched before running around the block a few times. He smiled at everyone and waved at Ms. Figg happily. He knew that he looked odd, a sixteen year old boy who had just lost the last bit of real family he had running around with a large smile on his face, but he didn't care. He continued to run until he saw the sun start to set. He stretched again before walking into the house. He hurriedly slipped into the bathroom. His shower wasn't cold, but cool. The water was on the edge off cold and warm and it felt amazing on his sweaty skin.

He dried quickly and walked back into his room. He pulled his bedclothes on sat at his desk. He pulled out his school books, happy to have his O.W.L.s over. He started on a potions essay and was halfway through when Pig landed at his desk before taking flight again. Pig orbited Harry's head while Harry felt his stomach sink. He was positive Ron had found out about his night with Ginny. He knew the letter contained angry words that would make a sailor blush.

He finally decided to catch Pig and read the letter, no matter if he knew it professed Ron's undying hate of his former best friend. Harry caught the little owl and took the letter from him before feeding him an owl treat.

Harry opened the letter slowly, not wanting to read how much his best friend wanted to kill him and never see him again.

Be prepared.

Ron

Harry was unsure what that message had meant. Was he trying to tell Harry that Voldemort was planning an attack? Or had he meant to be prepared for Ron to kill him?

Harry leaned back in his seat and let his head fall back as he closed his eyes. His heart beat slowed down and the letter slipped from his hand. A million things were running through his mind.

Another owl flew through the window that Harry didn't recognize, but he took the letter anyway and watched the owl fly out the window after a disapproving look at Pig. Harry opened the letter and smiled. It was Fred's handwriting.

You're coming home. Have everything at noon, you know where.

He smiled, Ron must have meant to be prepared for going the Grimmauld Place, but that was an odd message either way. Harry couldn't help but think that it had another meaning. Maybe he did know about Ginny and Harry. Maybe Voldemort was planning an attack.

Harry pushed the negative thoughts from his mind and packed his trunk. He fell asleep thinking of going to see the Weasley's. He couldn't wait to see Ginny again, along with his two best friends, and two adoptive parents. He had spent most of the summer wishing he was with them, and now he would be.

He woke late the next morning and was happy he only had a few hours to go. He would be gone from this house for ten months. He wouldn't have to sneak food for ten months. He would be with his adoptive family before going to the first place he had every felt at home.

He ate his grapefruit with a smile on his face, making Dudley through a temper tantrum saying Harry put sugar on his. Harry stuck his tongue out before walking back up to his room.

Harry sat at his desk before pacing the room and sitting down again before pacing once more. He was excited to get back, but the waiting was killing him. He hadn't thought of what it would be like living in the same house with Ginny, or trying to keep their feelings for each other secret. He hadn't thought of Dean, who still thought Ginny was his girlfriend and Harry his friend. He had thought of Ron however. Of thinking he had to tell Ron something. The details wouldn't, couldn't touch his ears, but the general ideas should, or at least their feelings.

Harry checked his pocket watch every five minutes until it was fifteen minutes till twelve. He pulled the key out and held it tightly in his hand while holding his trunk handle in the other, he had bewitched his trunk to fit everything so he could make one trip. At exactly noon Harry was pulled to the apartment and he pulled his trunk down the steps where not only Fred and George were waiting for him, but Lupin, Mr. Weasley, Tonks, Bill, and Moody. They all smiled oddly and Fred and George took his trunk. They had seen him just appear out of nowhere, except Fred and George. They must have thought that he used a portkey to get to the alley, not the apartment. Harry didn't share his secret, which wasn't his secret to tell, but Fred and George's, but followed them into the main street. He felt a hand grip his should and looked back to see Mr. Weasley. He felt extremely guilty when he looked up at Ginny's father. She had the exact same hair color and her freckles were in the same places as his. He quickly looked down at the ground and followed the group to Number 12 Grimmauld Place.

He walked into the house to see first Ron and Hermione, who gave them big hugs, then Ginny who also gave him a hug, the scent of gingersnaps and honeysuckle lingering in his nose. He gave Mrs. Weasley a hug and was ushered upstairs to the room he shared with Ron.

"How are you?" Ron asked as they sat on one of the beds.

Harry watched as Hermione and Ginny sat down on the other bed, "Um, I, um" he said not wanting to say he felt great. They were expecting him to say horrible, to be upset about his godfather's death. "I don't know," he said. He had forgotten everything, and now, being back in Sirius' house changed things. He still loved Ginny, he still was happy to be home, but he felt a hole. "Thanks, though, for the box."

Hermione looked happy, "We thought you'd like it," she said not knowing it had helped him to spend the night with her best friend. Hermione didn't know about the apartment, she didn't know about Ginny and Harry's feelings for each other, or did she? She was smart, she always knew everything, could she see their feelings for each other? Were they that obvious.

"I can show you the things, or did you see them already?" he said wanting to get onto a less somber conversation. He didn't want to talk about his godfather, yet he had just offered to show all the intimate things he had received to his friends. Maybe he did want to talk about Sirius, maybe he wanted to get everything off his chest, to tell everyone how he was feeling about the death of his godfather, to not become reclusive so everyone danced around him as if he were a bomb.

Hermione noticed something or maybe they had discussed it before he had arrived, but she and Ginny stood up and politely excused themselves.

Harry was unsure what to do, he wanted to cry, but not in front of Ron, but definitely not in front of Hermione and Ginny. Ron was his best friend, he would understand, he had cried briefly on Harry's shoulder when his father was attacked. Ron had leaned on Harry, and now it was time for Harry to lean on Ron.

Harry had finally gotten over being angry over his godfather, that had ended when he walked through the door.

Harry opened his mouth to say something, but no words come out. A single tear fell from his eye and Ron pulled him into a hug. Harry didn't feel odd as he sat hugging his male friend, he was just happy to have someone there for him, even though he knew everyone in the house would lend him a shoulder to cry on, he knew it had to be Ron. Ron was strong even though he didn't know it, he was brave, and he was loyal. Jealousy had never conquered Ron, because of those three traits.

A/N: You've taken the time to read... so please review!


	6. Pleasant Surprises

Pleasant Surprises

Chapter 6

Harry was recovering from his emotional breakdown and from the death of his godfather. Walking into the house of Black changed so many things for him. He had realized that being angry was useless and that he had a hole in his heart. Harry hadn't realized how close he had grown to his godfather. They barely spend anytime together, yet Harry loved him like a father. He loved him as much as Mr. Weasley, as much as Ron, and as much as his own parents. Sirius had filled a small part of the hole Voldemort had made when he killed his parents, and he made his own place in Harry's heart. Now, not only was the hole from losing his parents wide open, but he had another one, where Sirius had been.

Harry walked out into the hall and stretched, he had slept easily after a late dinner with the Order, including the newest members, Fred and George. He had stolen glances at Ginny, though he knew he couldn't let his gaze linger on her too long. He wondered if his letter had reached her, what she thought of it. It was just a stupid letter, it barely said anything.

He walked down to the kitchen, where he was sure Mrs. Weasley had some sort of taste breakfast waiting. He rounded the corner to find the smell of soup and grilled cheese sandwiches. He put his hand in his pocket to pull out his pocket watch, but it wasn't in his pajamas, but on his dresser upstairs.

"It's well past noon, mate," Ron said before taking a bite at what Harry guess was his second sandwich, considering he didn't take the normal bite that made a quarter of the sandwich disappear.

Harry sat down across from Ron and right next to Ginny. He wanted to put his hand on her leg or to slip his fingers into hers, but he knew Ron would notice. He knew Ron was pretty oblivious, more so when he ate, but he would notice that, so Harry simply moved his leg slowly so that it was touching Ginny's.

"I saved you some bacon and toast from breakfast," Mrs. Weasley said as she set a plate filled with bacon and buttered toast in front of him. He picked up a piece of bacon, which felt like it had just been made seconds ago and took a bite. It tasted delicious, not as if it had been waiting for him for hours. He took a bite of the toast next, it was still warm and crunch.

"This is delicious, Mrs. Weasley," Harry said before finishing off the food on his plate.

He watched Ginny depart after the meal remorsefully, he had wished she could spend the day with him, even though he knew she had to return to the shop.

"Fred and George said they'd give you a few galleons if you tested a new product Ron,"

Ginny said to him as she pulled her brown robes on.

Harry smirked as he remembered the robes, she wore them just the night before. He quickly wiped the smirk from his face, knowing if someone saw him looking at her like that they would know. He took a long swig of butterbeer.

"A few? That means its something nasty, or they haven't tested it yet," Ron said before reaching into his pocket. Harry heard coins jingling and it seemed as if Ron was counting his money, "I suppose, tell them to bring it to dinner, wouldn't want to try them without mum to fix me if something goes wrong."

Harry wondered if Mrs. Weasley was glaring at Ron from behind him. He was helping his brothers with their business, but so was Ginny, so maybe Mrs. Weasley was finally happy about the twins' joke shop.

"Ron, I suppose you should help Harry move, and then Albus said it be safe for you to go to Diagon Alley, he left a portkey," Mrs. Weasley said as she gestured to an old boot that was sitting on a table.

Harry followed Hermione and Ron out of the kitchen, "Move?" he asked the two, wondering if Mrs. Weasley had meant unpack. His two friends didn't reply as they walked up the steps and into the room he shared with Ron. "Ron. Hermione."

Hermione turned around as did Ron, they stood in a triangle, Harry waiting for one of them to say something, "Well, you see, Sirius left the house to you, so mum decided to move you into, you know, the master bedroom."

Harry was unsure what was going on. Sure he owned the house, but why would he sleep in a different room. He liked sharing a room with Ron, "Why?" he asked seconds later.

"Ron's mum said you deserved your own room, that you could call home," Hermione said before pulling her wand from her robes. She waved it around a few times and all the things flew into his trunk. She waved it again and the trunk lifted into the air. She led the two boys up the stairs, the trunk trailing behind them. They were on the top floor, right below Buckbeak. Harry didn't see a door, just another hallway and set of stairs.

He looked at Hermione who pulled a key from her pocket. It was a muted black skeleton key that felt cold to the touch when she handed it to Harry. Harry stared at the key, unsure what to do with it, there was no door for him to use it in. He looked back up at Hermione. She didn't budge or open her mouth to speak, she simply looked at him.

Harry looked at Ron who gave him a lopsided sympathy smile. "Mum says that you'll figure it out. She had to get Professor Dumbledore to open the door for her. He said that the owner of the house would know how to open the door."

Harry looked back down at the key, then up at Hermione who still held no emotion, then back at Ron who just looked at him, then back to the key. He opened his mouth to ask another question, "I need to be alone," he said instead. He had meant to ask for help, not send his best friends away.

He watched them walk back down the stairs, Hermione leaving his trunk on the landing. He heard their footsteps die before he looked back to the hallway. He wondered if the room had its on charm on it. Perhaps someone had to give him the secret to get in. _No, that's not right._ He grasped the key firmly in his hand and walked down the hallway, again he had meant to do something, but he did the opposite. He stopped in the middle of the hallway and pushed the key into what he thought was the wall, but the key went in easily. Harry turned the key and dark oak double doors opened to reveal the spacious room.

He pulled his wand out and looked at his trunk, he flicked his wand and the trunk flew into the room and landed at the foot of the large four poster bed. He walked into the room and shut the doors behind him before pocketing the key.

He examined the room as he had the apartment. As he walked around he noticed a stray black dog hair, knowing it had been Sirius' hair in his animigus form. Harry continued around the room, over to the beautifully carved desk where Harry assumed Sirius had written all his letters to Harry. He stopped in front of what he thought was a window. He pulled back the curtains to reveal a large painting of his father, Sirius, and Remus Lupin.

"Hiya Harry," they all said with big smiles. Harry took a step back in surprise. There were so many paintings of his parents and Sirius, why had he never gotten the chance to see them? Why had he spent the last five years alone, when he could at least have the comfort of a painting that held his parents voices and wisdom.

He closed the curtains quickly. He was unsure why, he wanted to know his parents, to have Sirius back. But that wasn't Sirius, it was a painting of him, and that wasn't his father, it was just a painting.

Harry took a few stumbled steps backwards and bumped into the bed. He slumped down on the floor, what could he do? He was in Sirius' old bedroom, he had just spend the night with a girl in Sirius' old apartment, he had his grandfather's old watch in his pocket, his parents old seal, his father's old robes, yet here he was hiding from a painting of them.

He stood up and pulled the curtains open, "Are you trying to make me into my father?" he said staring at the form of his godfather.

A/N: You've taken the time to read... so please review!


	7. Lost Memories

Lost Memories

Chapter 7

"We thought, well Sirius thought you should have a bit of your past, because he knew you felt like you were missing something," his father said softly. He could tell Harry was upset, even if he was just a painting. The real Sirius had talked for hours to the painting, letting everything be known, how much he hated Peter, how much he loved Harry; how he wished he would've given his life to save Harry, because he deserved so much more than a convicted criminal for a godfather.

Harry looked at the painting of his father, wondering how real they were. Did they think on their own? Did they have the traits of his father, of the real Lupin and Sirius?

Starring back at him was Sirius, who wanted to tell the boy everything, of how his real godfather had loved him like a son, how he had used paint remover to clear Peter Pettigrew from the painting, how he wanted to teach the boy everything he knew, but he'd never have that chance.

"Fine, but I'm not you," Harry said before correcting himself, "him." He starred at the painting of his father. Their hair was exactly the same, but their eyes so different. His father bore no scar upon his head, he had died. He was the man that died while his son was the boy who lived.

A tear fell from Harry's eye, he couldn't keep his emotions bottled up and he knew it. He wiped away the tear but couldn't help it when more continued to fall. He was angry and sad at the same time. Harry turned his back on the painting.

"He cried too," Harry heard a voice from the painting say. He turned around to see only Sirius starring back at him.

"Who?" Harry said as he wiped another tear away. "My father?" he asked wondering if the painting was going to look at him as his father as much as Sirius did.

"No, oh no, your father never had to cry," the painting replied. Harry was unsure if he wanted to listen to the painting, what could it know? It was just a painting and Harry didn't want to think of it any other way.

"This painting used to hang in your living room, where your mother set your pram to catch the morning light," the painting said. Harry took a step back. This painting, these people had seen him. They had watched him as a baby; they knew something of his past, even if they were just paintings. "You were a rambunctious child, walking at just nine months. Your father wanted to set you on a broom right away; he did once, when your mother was away. You got it to rise a good meter before Remus convinced him to take you off."

Another tear fell from his eye. He was unsure how to feel. He had only spent one year with his parents, one year. But here was a memory he'd never know, a memory if it wasn't for Sirius, he'd have never known. Harry sat down and leaned against the bed, listening to the painting.

"Not so angry now? Ready to listen to the stories we know?" the man said. He had a smile on his face and he looked happy, as if he too loved the boy. "Bet you'd like to hear one about your mother. Hm… let me think."

Harry looked at the painting waiting for it to tell him a story, how many did it know? How many could it tell him before he had heard them all? He would hear them again; he'd never tire of them.

"Yes, I know that you have a picture of her and your father, that picture was in his parents' house. I reckon they can tell you of your grandparents," the painting said, still thinking. "Ah, yes, how could I forget? Your mother, you're beautiful mother, her green eyes and those beautiful locks, reminds me of Ginny Weasley."

Harry took in a sharp breath, "Yes, I know her, painted my hand back on after Sirius removed Peter," the painting said as it shook his right hand then admired it as if it were a diamond.

"Well, your mother, always sang you to sleep, we could hear it in the living room, put us to sleep too. She was sick for an entire week, couldn't sing, or talk for that matter, made your father sing to you. Didn't help much, you just cried and looked at your mother with those emerald green. She had to rock you for an hour before you fell asleep those nights," the painting smiled at Harry.

He was imagining his mother rocking in a chair with a small baby with jet black hair and a smooth forehead. The tears fell quickly now, growing heavier until they couldn't any bigger and were giant and fell heavily to his robes.

"Back to the tears again," the painting said, his words soft and soothing, "Just like Sirius."

Harry wiped a tear away, "Like Sirius?" he asked wanting to know why his godfather had cried. He seemed like a strong man, the kind that didn't have any emotion except anger and happiness. Sirius was not like Harry; or rather Harry was not like Sirius. He could never be as strong as Sirius had been, he could never be the man Sirius was.

"Don't believe it?" the painting asked as Harry ran his hand through his already messy hair. "Yes, tears don't show weakness, boy. They show pain yes, emptiness, loss, not weakness."

Harry hadn't been brought up to think that. He had always believed that to cry was weakness. If he shed a tear while Dudley used him as a punching bag, he was weak and useless, and it often caused the boy to hit him harder. He fought to keep tears back, even when he was around Ron he fought them back, not wanting to seem weak in front of his friend, even though on the rare occasion they let their defenses down.

"Fawkes saved your life with his tears," the painting said as it leaned its elbows on the frame of the painting. "Your godfather cried, he didn't want anyone to know, but he did. He would shut the curtains and we knew tears were falling."

Harry was unsure if he wanted to hear the story the painting was telling him. Did he want to hear about the times Sirius had cried? Did he want to intrude on the pain his godfather had? _No, he wanted it kept secret, and I won't listen to it._

"Stop, I don't want to hear this," he said as he stood with power. He always seemed to hold great power when he felt something was wrong. It seemed as if the wind was blowing his robes and hair back, making his scar visible.

"Well, I'm glad you've finally joined us," the painting said confusing the boy. "Knew you were in there some where."

Harry wanted to storm out of the room, to leave the painting, which he was thinking was slightly senile. He didn't want to hear a story about Sirius crying or some odd story about who he really was, but he didn't move. He stood there, his feet planted and his eyes fixed on the painting.

"Sirius is gone, I'm gone," the painting said forcefully, "I'm not coming back, neither is James, or Lily."

Harry hated the way the painting was talking to him, as if he didn't know these things already. Harry new quite well his parents were gone forever and were never coming back and he knew his godfather was also gone forever.

"I know this," he said his voice slightly angry.

"You're wrong," the painting said. "Sirius, I, we always hated clichés. Over done we always say, but this one maybe is new to your ears. They're in you. They'll always be in your heart and when you forget that they're, we're in these paintings.

"I know you don't want to get attached to us, to think that we really are your family, we're not. We're their voices; they told us everything, knowing one day something bad could happen."

Harry was unsure what was happening to him. Was he to believe this painting? Did they know everything about him and his parents? Maybe, but maybe he was just holding onto a false hope. He wanted so bad for these paintings to be something they weren't, to be his parents and his godfather.

"No, Harry, we aren't the real thing," the painting said solemnly. It seemed as if it wished it were real, it seemed so much like his godfather. "But we love you as much as they do."

Harry looked away from the painting, as the closed doors. He wanted to run again, to get away from his problems, away from the paintings that wouldn't leave him alone, but he stayed. He was done running.

"You're not real, none of the paintings are. My parents are gone and so is Sirius," Harry said angrily to the painting.

"No, Harry," the painting replied. It was determined for him to understand, "They're in your heart, you're mum always said that saying was the most common muggle saying when someone died. They're always be alive in you're heart. You grew up with muggles," the painting pleaded, wanting Harry to stop feeling so much pain.

"I grew up with muggles because my parents are dead," Harry said forcefully, "and because that rat, Wormtail, betrayed my parents and Sirius."

"Fine, take the easy way out, just like that rat," the painting spat at the boy, turning to the last option he had. He had to get him angry so he could realize what he had. "Run away from it Harry, it will be perfect, you can have another weight on your shoulders."

"I'm nothing like Wormtail," Harry said angrily as he took a step toward the painting.

The painting fought back a smile, Harry had taken the bait, "Good, then don't run away."

Harry didn't say anything he just stood their firmly waiting for the painting to say something else. He waited but it didn't reply.

"Are you done then?" he asked thinking he had finally won, but he didn't realize they weren't fighting each other, but a common enemy, that hole in his heart.

"Done, I won't be done until you realize that you made the hole in your heart, that emptiness is because of you, not the deaths of your parents and Sirius."

Harry wanted to run again, there was no winning against a painting; it was a painting, and a painting of Sirius at that. Sirius was a strong man, physically, magically, and emotionally, he would hold strong and defeat Harry, no matter how hard Harry tried, he would fail.

"I'm not James and I'm not Sirius, I'm not that strong," Harry finally admitted, hoping he would finally be able to be rid of the argument.

"Harry, you are stronger, you're the boy who lived. You have the power to defeat Voldemort, they didn't. You're stronger because they love you."

A/N: You've taken the time to read... so please review!


	8. Adventures and Last Days

**Adventures and Last Days**  
_Chapter 8_

Harry hadn't left the room in hours, his stomach was growling and his eyes were puffy and sore from crying. He wanted to go get some food but didn't want to run into Ron or Hermione, or any of the members of the Order. What would the think if they saw his puffy red eyes? They'd know he'd been crying for hours in his godfather's old bedroom.

He heard a soft knock on the door and was unsure what to do. He kept quiet thinking they would go away if they thought he was sleeping

They knocked again, louder and more urgent this time. He didn't answer, he just waited for them to go away, whoever them was. The knocked again and Harry was sure everyone in the house would hear the loud pounding, but he didn't budge.

"Harry Potter, if you think I don't know you're wide awake, well, you're just a git. Now, open the door," Ginny said loudly and forcefully.

Harry stood up and looked at his robes; he could still see the salty stains from his large tears so on his way to the door he pulled them off and threw them on his trunk. He pulled the doors open and was glad to see the hallway was just as dim as his room. Ginny wouldn't be able to see that he had been crying.

She carried a tray of food and stood looking much more mature and her own age. Harry let her walk into the room and shut the doors securely before looking at her.

"Ron thought you fell asleep and Hermione thought you'd fallen into a time warp before she attempted to explain some muggle television show. I offered to bring you food," she said as she looked at him. He looked hungry and tired, the exact opposite of the way he had looked the night before. She set the tray down and pulled him into a hug. She felt his arms wrap around her body and squeeze her tightly. He didn't release her for a few minutes and his grip didn't relax the entire time.

He finally let go of her seconds after he said quietly, "I love you, Gin."

She kissed him softly on the lips before grabbing his hand and walking him over to the food. They ate together silently, not wanting to spoil the moment that seemed perfect. They occasionally smiled oddly, making the other laugh and cover their mouth as they chewed a large bite of their dinner.

Harry watched as Ginny picked up the tray and started towards the door after they finished eating. He didn't want her to leave, he wanted to spend time laying in her arms and letting the smell of gingersnaps and honeysuckle that always accompanied her wash over him.

"Will you stay?" Harry asked her before she reached the door. She stopped and looked back at him. He was standing in a way that made Ginny want to rock him in her arms like a baby, but maybe it wasn't the stance but her love for him that made her feel that way. She set the tray back down and walked over to Harry. She looked into his eyes expecting to see his soul and the person she had seen just the night before, but instead she felt as if she was starring into the eyes of a lost little boy. Ginny new he was lost and often felt alone, but she never thought of Harry in that way. He had always been her hero, and after her second year, he was. Was this the same person who had saved her? No, Sirius had changed him, given him some hope that Voldemort and his death eaters had taken away. She looked at him unsure if she could bear his pain or burden.

She now wanted to run, but it wasn't her heart that told her this, but that small part of her that sill had Voldemort. He was still there, trying to corrupt Ginny and control her, but Harry's presence always squelched the voice. Their love was conquering Voldemort.

"I'll stay," she finally said knowing she had to from the beginning. She couldn't leave him no matter ho much pain he was in our how heavy his burden was, she would never leave his side.

Harry slipped his hand into hers and led her over to the bed. They laid down, his head in her lap, he felt as if he were home, and as they lay their silently, the smell of gingersnaps and honeysuckle floated into Harry's nose.

They were silent for a while, each unsure what to say or if they should say anything. Harry stopped searching for words eventually and forgot everything, Sirius and his parents, Voldemort and the Death Eaters, Ron and Ginny's family. If felt as if they were the only two people in the world.

Ginny looked down at Harry, into the emerald green eyes that had made an appearance in her dreams countless times, and she saw the real Harry. The lost little boy was gone, maybe not forever, but for now. She smiled at him.

"Are you scared?" she asked him wondering how his mind worked. She wanted to know his true fear, if it was death or life. His family was dead, and he could join them, she could see in his eyes that he knew that, but she could also see that he was going to run away. He was going to stand fast no matter what, and that scared her a little as she thought about their future together.

"Of what?" he asked.

"Anything," she said wanting him to spill all his secrets.

"No," he said truthfully, and at first she thought he was shoving her out, but she realized he wasn't. She knew he was an extraordinary person that would amaze her at every turn and his lack of fear comforted her as thoughts of the war danced in hear head.

They didn't think of the next month, in which Harry would begin to understand the paintings and get over Sirius' death along with his parents' deaths. He got to know the real Lily and James. His father was just as daring as Sirius and loved to listen to Harry and Ron tell them of their adventures. His mother, on the other hand, tried more than once to flatten his hair through the painting and often pointed out when he had dirt smudged on his face. She also liked to point out that summer vacation was drawing an end even though his homework wasn't done, but that wasn't all. She loved to hear is stories too and she would gasp and cringe at all the right parts, where as when he and Ron had told his father he had cheered with his two best friends.

He barely left the house and never returned to the secret apartment, not yet anyways. He had school to prepare for and a hole to fill. He would listen to countless stories from his father, Sirius, and Remus, though he noticed Peter was always left out.

The last few days of August arrived and Fred and George could be seen slipping candies into trunks and pockets while everyone rushed around. Mrs. Weasley was seen floating last minute laundry through the house, an occasional piece of clothing falling from the neatly folded stacks, which was usually someone's underwear. Ron had been rather embarrassed when Fred and George had strung a pair of his underwear over the head of one of the mounted house elves, which every member of the Order noticed on their way to a meeting.

On their last night, Harry sat with Ron, Hermione, and Ginny, whose honeysuckle and gingersnap smell was very strong, at the top of the steps hoping the members would get angry and start yelling since Fred and George had confiscated all of their Extendable Ears after becoming secretive members.

"Bunch of gits, I say," Ron said in the silence, "should've nicked a few, Ginny."

Ginny looked at her brother, "Would have if the didn't have a charm on everything in the store."

The meeting let out and the four listened for any clue as to what was happening but the members disclosed nothing, even their mischievous brothers wouldn't tell them anything.

Mrs. Weasley came out last and yelled at the four to get to bed as soon as she set eyes on them. They all ran up the stairs, but didn't go into their own rooms, but up to Harry's luxurious room. They sat on his bed joking along with the paintings until they fell asleep one by one. Ron was first, then Hermione, then Ginny after a quick kiss from Harry, and Harry was last to fall asleep, his thoughts swimming with the next day's events and what his sixth year would hold, but not of Voldemort who was planning his next attack on the boy.

::the end::

I continued this story in a sequel titled **Harry Potter and the Story that Will Be**.  
The first chapter is posted… please check it out!


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